


Stone Slab

by scoottt



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:09:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scoottt/pseuds/scoottt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's got a question for Dave, and his answer is going to change everything for the two of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stone Slab

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is really bad.

He didn't know how he did it, but he guessed it had something to do with his cool kid powers of being, well, just so damn cool. Dave Strider in a totally cool and ironic way had gotten the supposed 'totally straight, not homosexual' John Egbert to fall for his shaded, blonde self. Hell, it had only happened a while after the Sburb experience, once they settled into the fact that Earth and the rest of their universe hadn't just blown to shit with all of those god damn flaming meteors. Everything was back how it was, as if they had never played that shitty beta. Unfortunately, 'everything' meant Bro's army of smuppets and Lil' Cal were still around. As cool as Cal was which wasn't really at all he had been better when he was torn to smithereens in the crater of a meteor that had pummeled one of Aradia's whacked out clone bots.

 

Not that he could tell Bro that, because that would not be severely uncool, but it'd probably end in a duel between the two Striders on the roof of the apartments, and fuck it, Dave couldn't win.

 

But, anyway, Mr. CoolKid Dave Strider had been with plain, old dorky John Egderp for the last few years, from when they were thirteen until now, at their ripe ages of sixteen, Dave being older by a couple of months. It hadn't progressed past a long-distance relationship, just keeping it going through Pesterchum, Skype, and whatever other social interaction methods they chose to use. They hadn't seen each other in person since their time in Sburb.

 

Dave felt it was time for a totally ironic flashback.

 

\- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] -

 

EB: hey dave!  
EB: guess what.  
EB: i bet you won't be able to guess.  
TG: what  
TG: tell me its that bro is done with puppets  
TG: that fuckin smuppet army  
TG: hate that thing like you dont even know  
EB: nope!  
EB: guess again.  
TG: gamebro magazines suddenly arent total shit  
EB: hehe you know that won't happen.  
EB: like ever.  
TG: hey man a cool dude like me can hope  
TG: shits only good for reviewing  
EB: okay since you're never going to guess  
EB: it's that Con Air is playing at the theater in my town.  
EB: it's so awesome!  
TG: that movie is a shit stain on film history  
TG: a skid mark in the movie industrys underwear  
EB: no way.  
EB: it's the greatest movie ever.  
EB: i mean seriously.  
EB: it's got Nicolas Cage and everything.  
EB: you should come to my town.  
EB: right now.  
EB: and then watch Con Air with me cause it's great.  
TG: john  
TG: its so flattering  
TG: that youre asking me out on a date  
TG: but it should be less shitty of a first date  
EB: i'm not asking you on a date.  
EB: you're a loser.  
TG: gettin defensive  
TG: too late  
TG: cause i already know about your crush  
EB: dude no.  
EB: shut up. i'm not flushed for you like the trolls would say.  
EB: dumpass.

 

That conversation continued on like that for a while hours, actually and ended only when Bro threatened to cut the Internet connection for the night. How it ended, though, was in such a different fashion than the commonplace bro arguing and picking fun at each other.

 

EB: good night.  
EB: ..i love you.  
TG: night dude  
TG: i love you too

 

\- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] -

 

Dave had to admit that that conversation had been kind of awkward, and it had threatened to break his cool kid facade. Even though it crumbled a bit on the inside, he managed to keep his poker face, lest Bro came in and noticed and proceeded to beat him with plush puppet ass. But fuck it, what did he care? Battling a horrorterror wave of dong-nosed smuppets was nothing compared to how he felt freakin' happy. He had gotten John with his adorable buckteeth and silly square glasses to finally get with him.

 

They'd been together ever since then, and it was just, well, amazing. John had definitely given up on the 'I'm not gay' whatnot, and he had become a bit fruity. Well, not literally fruity like a fuckin' banana or something, and not, like, serious-gay-lisp-and-fashion-scarf fruity. Just... gay. Basically, he just no longer tried to hide it. Not a flamer, but not a mansteak womaniser. You get the point.

 

They would talk every night, about who the fuck knows what, just for the sake of talking to each other. It really wasn't all that much different than their conversations used to be, but they now managed to sneak in some flirting, and it always ended with an 'I love you'. Tonight wasn't much different.

 

\- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] -

 

EB: hey Dave.  
TG: sup  
EB: okay, so...  
EB: i was wondering...  
EB: if...  
TG: dude get on with it  
TG: a cool dude like me doesnt have all day  
EB: oh shut up.  
EB: anyway, i was wondering  
EB: ...if you'd go to prom with me.  
EB: Dave?  
EB: you don't have to say yes if you don't want to.  
TG: sorry dude  
TG: bro came in  
TG: so i turned the monitor off  
EB: okay.  
EB: so...  
EB: will you?  
TG: i dont know how id get there  
TG: i would if i could dude  
EB: i kind of saved up money.  
EB: just in case you said yes.  
TG: really  
TG: well shit  
TG: youre too nice  
TG: i hope you know that  
EB: i'm not too nice, i just love you.  
EB: <3  
TG: <3  
TG: so yeah  
TG: ill go and ill pay you back sometime  
TG: i doubt bro will care if i go

 

It was settled. He and John freakin' Egbert were going to go to the latter's prom together.

 

\----

 

Washington was dull as fuck, like, duller than a callipygous smuppet, but Dave kept it to himself as he wandered around with John. They had just come from the airport not too long ago and had been out on the town for a while after disposing of Dave's things (thank jegus Dad wasn't home), John drivelling about the area. Dave was a cool enough kid to just humour him and let him talk it out, and eventually the bucktoothed teen prated enough to where he fell silent, simply enjoying the blonde's company.

 

Beneath Dave's large shades were light freckles splayed across his defined cheekbones and across the bridge of his nose. Accompanying the coloured flecks was a black eye, fresh from just hours before. Despite what Dave had thought about Bro letting him just fly off to Washington, he wasn't allowed to leave without a fight. Surprise, surprise, Bro won, but the younger Strider boy was off the hook and free to fly. The mixture of blue, purple, yellow and red hues was covered by the black optical obstruction that never left his face.

 

Which, speaking of the shades, of course John had attempted to remove them when they had met up in the airport. That lead to a momentary break in the cool kid façade and a somewhat meltdown on Dave's part as he explained that the glasses were never coming off. Ever. Not even in the event of a second apocalypse.

 

"Let's go see Con Air," John suggested after a while, though his tone implied that there was no possible escape. Through his own glasses, the black-haired teenager gave the Texan a determined look, trying to let him know that he couldn't back down from the "offer."

 

Scrunching his nose up slightly in disgust, Dave shook his head with a simple reply of, "No way, dude." There was no was he was going to sit there and watch John ogle over his mancrush, Nicolas Cage. He wouldn't even sit there ironically. No sitting was going to happen with that movie and his butt. None at all.

 

John, in turn, reached for Dave's sunglasses, knowing that would at the very least irk the boy, or perhaps even force him into acquiescence, so he would go along to watch Con Air with little to no struggling. All he got in response was Dave bolting off through the park they had been strolling through. Even though he didn't say anything about tag, that was what John was about to make it as he chased the other.

 

At seeing how fast the Knight of Time was—presumably due to having to run from Bro—the Heir of Breath realised that the whole afternoon was going to be spent in this fashion.

 

\----

 

Being introduced to John's father was not a pleasant experience in the least, as for the blonde was bombarded with baked goods and a thousand welcomes. To save his boyfriend from certain diabetes, John dragged him up the stairs to his room, which looked exactly the same as it had when he was just thirteen. Neither male had changed much at all in the long run, especially Dave, who could never be anything less than cool.

 

Throughout the night, they talked just as they did through the computer when their relationship was purely long-distance, until the point of mental exhaustion with which they decided to cure with sleep. The Strider boy camped out on the ground, much to John's disappointment. But he was only disappointed because the guest should never have to sleep on the floor, not because he wanted to cuddle Dave or anything. Definitely not that.

 

Regardless, before John could fix the sleeping arrangements, Dave was out like a light on his makeshift bed of blankets, dark shades still obscuring his face. It lead John to wonder, to imagine what Dave really looked like beneath the shades. What if he had an eye totally like the Terminator? Or no eyes at all? Or multiple itty-bitty eyes? Shuddering, John really hoped that none of those were the case, seeing as they weren't exactly turn-ons for him. After watching the sleeping Strider for a few minutes to reassure himself that the blonde was fully asleep, John reached for the shades to remove them, even if just for a second.

 

Just as he went to grasp the shades between forefinger and thumb, Dave rolled onto his side, switching from sleeping on his back, hair tousled, mouth slightly agape and letting out a soft sigh with each exhale to being curled into a ball. For a cool kid, he sure slept like a girl, but hell if it didn't make John smile, silly buckteeth pointing out from the grin.

 

They were finally together, in person, and not under dire circumstances that could lead to their ultimate demise.

 

When the raven-haired teen woke up the following day, the Saturday of prom, he couldn't help but beat Dave awake with a pillow in excitement, earning a groggy "fuck off, Egbert" in response before the other finally roused and sat up, blankets pooling around his slim waist.

 

The Texan teenager combed through his blonde locks with his willowy fingers, stifling a yawn—ironically, of course. Rays of sun filtered in through the slightly opened blinds, slowly pulling him out of the lingering sleep. Standing from the crumpled mess of sheets, Dave stretched, watching as John followed suit. After taking a moment to size the other up, Dave noticed that John had actually surpassed him in height, fairing two inches or so taller now, quite different from when they were thirteen. Quite sure that John noted that fact himself, Dave said nothing, instead excusing himself so he could head off to the bathroom.

 

Once safe behind the locked door, the Knight of Time removed his shades, refraining from looking at himself in the mirror and proceeding to wash his face and take care of his other morning duties. The whole while, he avoided what he believed to be a "monster" in the mirror. Even he himself had gotten used to never seeing what he really looked like. Shaking his head after he finished with everything, Dave returned the sunglasses to their perch on the bridge of his nose, concealing his appearance once again.

 

At the time when it was John's turn to shower and whatnot, Dave observed the attire he had brought along for the big evening. It was, of course, his black aces suit—white scratched record design on the right—with a black button-up shirt and a white tie to go with. He was aware that John was going to wear the opposite to him, his white suit with the white button-up shirt and black tie. Not like they planned that or anything, because a cool kid like Dave Strider wouldn't do something like that.

 

With his usual sangfroid, Dave awaited the moment that John returned to the room, knowing that they were going to be doing a _lot_ of talking before the dance.

 

As the time of prom crept nearer and nearer, the suited boys made their way downstairs to the living room, seeing as John insisted they get at least one picture. Dave objected for a minute or two, just for the sake of keeping up his aplomb, but finally gave in, knowing deep down that he wanted a picture too—this may be a night that he would never forget, he was sure of that, yet having a picture to always smile upon (coolly, of course) would be great.

 

They posed in front of the camera that Dad held, John's arm slung around Dave's shoulders as Dave held lightly onto the other's waist. Of course, much to John's displeasure, the Texan refused to take the shades off for the pictures, but that was expected. Eventually John would get to see him without his shades. Well, maybe. Probably not.

 

Coming from a comical family, one of great pranksters, John vied for a silly picture, to which with no surprise, the Strider male refused. No way a cool kid like him would do that. Shit could end up being blackmail some day. At some point during their "argument" over doing or not doing the goofy photograph, John just stopped and grinned that crooked grin of his, causing Dave to eventually prattle off and ask, "What're you looking at, Egbert?"

 

Instead of responding verbally, the bucktoothed lad picked Dave up off the ground, one arm hooked under his knees and the other cradling him around the shoulders to keep him from falling. Dave's eyes went wide beneath the dark shades, but he kept up his calm exterior to the best of his abilities. "I don't enjoy being manhandled. You can't just do this to a cool guy like me."

 

A click from the camera caused Dave to look over just in time to be met with the blinding flash. Beneath the glasses he blinked a few times to get the light spots away, soon being put down by John, at which he attempted to walk a few feet away, instead having his wrist caught in the black-haired male's grasp. "Wait, before I forget," Egbert murmured, keeping his grip on Dave's slender wrist as his other hand dug in his pocket for something. Shit, he wasn't proposing or something, was he?

 

Instead of an engagement ring, out from the pocket came a corsage with a small, pure white carnation, fit to complement the both of their opposing suits. When John fastened it to Dave's wrist, it took a bit for the Texan to keep his indignation in.

 

"At what point did I become the girl in this relationship?"

 

"Well, you're shorter, for one," John began to explain, holding back a chuckle, "and two, you look a lot girlier. I mean, look at yourself, man. You've got hips."

 

At that, Dave couldn't help but look down at himself, tracing his fingers lightly down his own sides. Despite feeling the curve of hips, he huffed slightly and denied it. "You're the chick, Egbert. Not me." His hands now rested on the light curve of his supposed hips, not helping his cause any. That of course only made John's chuckle escape.

 

"You are too the girl, Strider. Deal with it." With that, he stuck his tongue out at him, to which he only got a middle finger in reply, making him laugh more. The guffawing stopped only when Dad said that he now would take them off to the dance so they wouldn't have to walk and ruin their suits any. Gaining thanks from both of the teens, Dad nodded and headed out to the car, starting it up and taking them off to their destination when they were all buckled in. During the whole ride, John and his father discussed who-knows-what while Dave lightly toyed with the corsage. He was so not the girl.

 

Then again, he did find being dominated a bit of a turn-on. Or a lot of a turn-on. Not that he could ever tell Bro that, because that would be awkward as fuck when they were battling on the rooftops. No bro-boners allowed. No broners. Like hell he'd ever tell John this, either.

 

Regardless of wanting his bucket seriously thrashed, he still denied being the girl, once again informing John of his incorrect statement as they got out of the car with thanks again to the elder Egbert. Sensibly, John didn't argue with the Strider, just flattening his suit out a bit before offering his arm to the blonde.

 

At first, Dave just stared at the looped arm that awaited his own, everything so dark with it being the nighttime and wearing shades and all. He knew that he was throwing his cool look out of the window when he linked his arm with John's, but he honestly couldn't give a fuck at the moment, ironic or not. A sincere smile—not even a cocky, Strider trademark smirk—played on his pale lips, and John's expression mirrored his, though the smile was a thousand times larger. With that, the two males made their way into the dance hall in which the prom was being held.

 

Once they were inside the building, it seemed as though everyone had their eyes locked on the couple of males, especially the strange blonde that the geeky John had brought along with him. The lanky Texan let his eyes scan over the crowd of people from behind the shades, just keeping his poker face on as the entire junior class of John's school observed him. Turning his head slightly, the Strider boy let his eyes take in the appearance of John, who was still smiling that doofy grin of his.

 

It didn't take long, though, before they were melted into the rest of the group, dancing the night away, still receiving sideways glances every so often. The music pounded through their heads, large, high-powered speakers surrounding the DJ's stand. Of course, Dave would prefer to be the one behind the music, but it was his night with John, and fuck it, it just wasn't as cool without the records, all those buttons taking over these days.

 

With all of the formally dressed people crammed into one room, dancing to music completely unfitting for their elegant dress, John and Dave were within close proximity of one another, bodies often brushing together as they danced. And, much to Dave's surprise, dorky ol' Egbert could actually dance, actually had rhythm and moves. Even more surprisingly, they didn't pale all that much to the Strider kid's moves, though John's seemed more, well, gender appropriate.

 

"You dance like a girl!" John giggled over the music, enjoying poking fun at his lightly freckled date, who replied with a loud and clear, "Fuck you, Egbert" as he continued to dance. Watching Dave, the black-haired teenager noted how—for a lack of better words—seductively the Texan danced, just like the rest of the girls in the room. Hell if those skanks interested him any, though. John Egbert's eyes were locked on the Knight of Time, watching him drop it low.

 

Despite the occasional break for refreshments, the two spent the whole night in that fashion, having many a slow dance for all of the fast-paced, heavy-bass club songs. It seemed that with each song, the two males got closer, to the point where, when Dave dropped low, he was practically sliding down John's leg, head dangerously near the Washington teen's crotch.

 

They finished dancing out the song, changing their gears and adjusting to the new, slow tune playing. John's arms snaked around Dave's waist before he could protest, the blonde forced to be in the position of the girl and wrap his arms loosely around the other's neck. Dave mumbled something beneath his breath, but it only made John smile. From the Strider teen's body language, he could tell he was simply whining about it to keep up his image, otherwise seeming completely fine with it due to how close and relaxed they both still stood. "Stop pouting, Strider."

 

All John got in response from him was a small pap on the back of the head, causing a chuckle to escape his lips as they continued to dance, going in slow, methodical circles along with the music. Behind both boys' glasses, their eyes were lightly shut as they just focused on the feeling of one another in their arms. The light melody of the song drifted through their ears, neither having to think about the dancing, just letting it come to them. While everyone else was busy trying to cop a feel whenever they were out of the sight of the few supervisors, the two males just enjoyed one another's presence, minds drifting along on the music's wavelengths.

 

The song softly came to an end, and the lights went up, pulling everyone out of the darkness that they had been swaying to and fro, jumping up and down in for the last four hours or so. John made a slight sound of discomfort at the sudden brightness, Dave simply glad that his shades never left his face, keeping the seemingly blinding light away. After a few minutes of just standing there, everyone wandering out of the dance hall around them, they were ushered out into the chilly midnight air.

 

Once outside, Dave froze completely, in more way than one.

 

Upon the ground, a few cumulative inches of snow blanketed everything, sparkling enticingly beneath the dim yellow glow of the streetlights. John stopped walking after a metre or two when he noticed that Dave was no longer at his side. When he looked back, the blonde just stood on the steps of the grand dance hall—the only one in his little Washington town—shivering. It hadn't occurred to him that the Texan had never seen the sudden snow of a fickle spring, the glistening wonder that greeted them every year and coated the stone slab sidewalks. John was about to speak, about to hurry Dave up when the teen in the aces suit walked off past him, into the field of the park across the slushy street.

 

There, Dave just stared at the white layers of cold, glittery snow that lined the bare branches, coated the currently abandoned playground equipment—everything. He simply stood and stared, amazed by the simple precipitation. From where John stood across the street, it brought a smile to his face. Even Dave Strider could be subjected to childlike wonder. The Heir of Breath picked up a handful of the damp snow as he made his way across the street, standing not far back from Dave before tossing the balled up snow at his the unmoving blonde head.

 

Something black fell into the shallow depths of the snow at the contact.

 

It took a moment before John realised that Dave Strider's aviators were no longer obscuring his eyes, but sitting still in the snow—and Dave wasn't even reaching to pick them back up. John crept cautiously towards Dave, picking up the unintentionally discarded sunglasses and going to hand them to him. Now, though, it was his turn to freeze as his eyes rested upon, for the first time, Dave's own. Strider blinked owlishly before turning his head slightly to look John in the eyes with his erubescent orbs. They sparkled with astonishment just like the snow they gazed at, crimson irises beautifully complementing the pale complexion of the face they belonged to.

 

John allowed the aviators to fall out of his hand and back into the snow as he put his hand on the back of Dave's slender neck and pulled him forward into a tender kiss. He got one more glance into the overwhelmingly beautiful, long-lashed crimson eyes that Dave fought so hard to hide before they slid shut as he returned the passionate connection of their lips.

 

The simple joy of snow had brought emotion and life to the stone slab of a poker face that Dave always maintained.


End file.
